


Five Ways to Say I Love You

by contagiousiridescence



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Full Zine Version, Supercorp Zine V3, hey look there's finally no angst, love reveal, this is the full version of my zine contribution since I couldn't fit it all in the zine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-08
Updated: 2020-09-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:28:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26360404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/contagiousiridescence/pseuds/contagiousiridescence
Summary: Lena doesn’t like secrets.Kara’s not a fan of them either, especially after her most important secret had nearly brutalized their relationship beyond repair. She doesn’t regret the labor of love that went into proving herself to Lena again and eventually regaining that friendship-- and how it made them closer, stronger at the core, like the threads of their bond were made of the same steel as Supergirl-- but she regrets the pain it caused for the both of them. She never wants to hurt Lena, much less with a secret. Kara promised to never keep those from her again.But… she doesn’t really know how to navigate this one, in particular.
Relationships: Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor
Comments: 64
Kudos: 824





	Five Ways to Say I Love You

**Author's Note:**

> Hello friends! This is the complete version of the zine fic I submitted for the SuperCorp Charity Zine Volume 3. I decided that I wanted to post the full version instead of the one that was included in the zine. Maybe next time I'll finally learn how to keep things short and sweet so I don't end up with multiple versions. But, who knows-- I'm a goblin with no self control :)

Lena doesn’t like secrets. 

Kara’s not a fan of them either, especially after her most important secret had nearly brutalized their relationship beyond repair. She doesn’t regret the labor of love that went into proving herself to Lena again and eventually regaining that friendship-- and how it made them closer, stronger at the core, like the threads of their bond were made of the same steel as Supergirl-- but she regrets the pain it caused for the both of them. She never wants to hurt Lena, much less with a secret. Kara promised to never keep those from her again.

But… she doesn’t really know how to navigate this one, in particular. 

How long does it take for a truth to become a secret? Are there steps to it? A number of days that must pass before it’s simply too late? Is there a minimum number of people that should know about it before it’s no longer considered secret? How long before that secret becomes a _lie?_

“No,” Alex says, a glass of wine in hand. One foot is tucked up under her thigh as she sits in Kara’s big recliner chair, but she’s sitting forward. Attentive. “I don’t think that’s the same thing, Kara.” 

Kara stares at her own wine. After she and Lena became close again, it hadn’t taken much more for Kara to realize the nature of her feelings. Even William had seen it. He could sense it the way he sensed the truth to his stories, and his gentle reassurance was the last nudge Kara needed to see the light. But recognizing it in herself and embracing it-- actually _doing_ something about it-- were two very different things. It’s terrifying in a familiar way, which only serves to make Kara’s nerves fray at the ends until she feels threadbare. 

“I don’t want to lie to her,” she tells Alex, swirling her wine, eyes still downcast. “I can’t hurt her again.”

Alex shifts in the chair. When Kara glances up at her, she’s frowning. “Why would this hurt her?”

“I--” Kara makes an empty gesture with her free hand, then sighs. “I don’t know. Because I _am_ lying to her? About how I feel? This is supposed to be a friendship, and I... Aren’t I obligated to tell her the truth, about the way I feel about her? I promised no secrets.” 

A soft hum rises from Alex as she considers. “I don’t think this is the same,” she says after a moment. She catches Kara’s gaze again and raises her eyebrows. “Kara? The way you feel-- that doesn’t mean you aren’t still her friend or that you can’t have a great friendship with her, if that’s what you both want. You’re not a bad friend for loving her in a different way than maybe she expected.” Alex gives Kara’s shoulder a light push with the toe of her sock. “I know it was really hard for the both of you after what Lex did. But I don’t think this counts as a secret. You’re not harboring anything out of mistrust or deceit or anything like that. You just have a-- a different connection than you thought. And that’s perfectly okay.” 

Kara doesn’t look entirely convinced-- there’s still the shadow of doubt in her expression, the worry of her teeth to her bottom lip-- but only a handful of moments pass by in silence before she slowly nods her head and looks back at her sister. “I want to tell her,” Kara says. It’s firm, decided, with a deal more confidence than even she was expecting out of herself. “I want her to know. At least she’ll know I love her enough to make sure I keep nothing from her. Even if I’m afraid.” 

Alex smiles. “I think she’d appreciate that.” 

Kara steels herself with a drink and a deep breath. She can do this. She’s already gone through hell to make sure Lena stays in her life. 

How hard could telling Lena she’s in love with her really be? 

#1: 

It’s so hard. 

It’s _stupid_ hard. 

Lena is sitting across from Kara at the balcony table, kale salad untouched in front of her because she’s busy waving her hands around as she talks animatedly about a new project at Luther Corp. Something about quarks or atoms that Kara is only vaguely aware of because the names and concepts are vastly different than the ones used on Krypton-- and she’s also helplessly flustered by the mantra of _I’m so in love with her_ on a vicious repeat in her mind every time Lena brightens up and spills over another explanation that Kara’s supposed to be following. 

Kara has always known that Lena is pretty. Achingly _beautiful_. Even before Kara ever came to realize the truth blossomed inside of herself, she’d always known that Lena was beautiful to the point of distraction. To the point that the sight of Lena jammed up the thoughts in her head like her old college printer on a deadline in the most inconvenient of times. 

She planned on telling Lena today. The sky was blue, the birds were twittering, the breeze was just kind enough not to whisk their napkins off the table as they shared lunch together. And Lena was happy. She was bursting at the seams with light, the way she always is when she has a solution within grasp and the excitement is nearly a visible entity burning inside of her. Kara loves her that way, because it’s almost like Lena is full of sunlight the same way she is. 

If Lena is happy, and Kara does this the right way, then maybe the aftermath won’t be so bad. The first secret was destructive and cruel. This one would be gentle, simple, all smooth-like.

Easy, breezy, beautiful, Covergirl. 

“I love you,” Kara blurts out, loud, sudden, and Lena stops short, blinking over the table at Kara frozen in her seat. 

Oh, Rao-- that was not how this was supposed to go.

Immediately, Kara’s internal narration transforms into a manic _OH NO OH NO_. She has to fix it. It’s been half a second and she can already feel the moment imploding in on itself, so without thinking Kara scrambles to add, “‘Cause, you’re like, the smartest person ever and you do such amazing things and I LOVE everything about you and your smart brain and do I say it enough? Because I don’t think you hear it enough and like you should hear it all the time because you deserve all the love anyway I love you you’re my best friend--” 

Lena’s pause melts into a bubbling laugh. Kara doesn’t panic outwardly when Lena’s hand falls down to pat hers on the table, though it feels like maybe all of her insides are attempting a coup d'état in that very moment. “I love you too, you dork,” Lena says, breathy laughter and all, and it takes Kara a few moments longer to realize that Lena still has _no idea_. “But if you don’t let me finish this thought, I _will_ forget it until two in the morning, and my already delicate sleep schedule will get shot in the face.” 

“Uh--” Kara says, “Of-- of course.” And when Lena resumes, Kara curses her conspiratorial heart and the impulsive horse it rode in on. 

#2: 

“That was not easy, nor breezy, and certainly _not_ Covergirl,” Kara declares in the middle of her apartment, of which Alex and Brainy had just stepped inside. Alex has a bouquet of flowers in her hand from the florist down the street, and Kara hurries to take it from her and stick the dripping stems into a crystal vase. Brainy is holding out a worn-out copy of poetry that Kara is pretty sure he’d obnoxiously read aloud to Nia several months ago, but she takes that from him, too, and places it on the kitchen counter beside her private journal. She probably won’t use it, but better to have all resources at her disposal than to be woefully unprepared.

“Did you--” Alex stares past Kara and at the evidence of her stress strewn about the coffee table in the living room, “Did you eat the entire box of chocolates?” 

“She wasn’t going to eat them anyway,” Kara says quickly, rubbing at her face in case any of the evidence was left on her mouth, too. “The only refined sugar Lena enjoys is donuts, and I didn’t think about that until I already bought these.” 

“Perhaps you could prepare a treat from its base ingredients,” Brainy comments thoughtfully, furrowing his brow at the kitchen. “She is sure to appreciate an act of dedication instead of artfully-wrapped, store-purchased confections.” 

“I don’t have time to make something.” Kara shakes her head and exhales forcefully. “But I could--” she glances at her watch, “--I could fly to Dublin, grab those scones she really likes--”

Alex steadies Kara with a hand to her shoulder. “Re-lax,” she commands, and Kara’s shoulders don’t relax so much as slump, “I think you have everything you already need right here. Didn’t you write down everything you want to say? Just read it to her if you’re nervous.” 

Kara nods her head, but her stare is a little glazed as she imagines the possibilities of how the night will go. She’d invited Lena over for some special one-on-one dinner. They don’t have many opportunities to socialize just the two of them between their day jobs and the other, much more covert jobs outside of the occasional lunch or Game Night. This was as good a time as any for Kara to tell Lena how she really felt. 

But, what if it went wrong?

“What if it goes wrong?” Kara echoes, and it’s like a switch flicks her from uneasy calm into straight panic mode. She grabs the flower vase and begins to pace across her apartment as she continues, “Oh, gosh, don’t flowers have meaning, Alex? What do these flowers mean? What if they mean ‘I’m sorry your gerbil died’ instead of ‘hey I love you in a romantic way’ and then she thinks I’m an idiot because she doesn’t have a gerbil and then I blindside her with all this romantic stuff and then I RUIN--” 

_“Kara!”_

It takes both Alex and Brainy to cut through her ramble, and another half hour of them coaching her through her speech before Kara seems to settle back into some semblance of confidence. 

Then a knock sounds at the door. 

“She’s here!” Kara hisses, “She’s here and she’s _early!_ ” 

Brainy heads for the door. Alex shoves the empty chocolate box into the couch. And Kara-- she grabs the vase of flowers, super-speeds to her open window, and chucks them all onto the unsuspecting passersby several stories below. 

The indignant, “ _Hey!_ ” from the sidewalk is drowned out by Kara’s over-enthusiastic “Lena!” as Brainy swings her apartment door open. 

Lena stands in the doorway, eyebrows raised at Brainy poised calmly before her. Her gaze travels from him over to Alex standing ramrod-straight in the living room and then to Kara, who’s gripping an empty wet vase in her hands directly beside her suspiciously open window. 

“Kara,” Lena answers, a little slow, as she sweeps the apartment once more with a concerned eyebrow hitch. “I didn’t… realize we’d be having company.” There’s a single bottle of pinot in her hand that she lifts just the slightest amount. 

“Oh, no,” Alex says. She hurries across the dining room to grab Brainy by the arm. He waves cheerfully at Lena as he’s dragged into the hall, who returns it with a slight, somewhat confused wave of her own. “We were just leaving.” 

Lena steps inside as Alex closes the door behind them, and then it’s just Kara and Lena an entire apartment-width away, blinking at each other through the silence. 

“So.” Lena drifts closer to the living room. “Why--” Kara tries not to wince, “--is there an empty heart-shaped box of chocolate hiding in your couch cushions?”

The first thing out of her mouth isn’t, ‘Because I love you and I wanted to get you something nice,’ or ‘because it’s almost Valentine’s Day and maybe I panicked a little,’ but:

“I’m obviously devastated that Channing Tatum and Lucy Lane separated, Lena, it’s the end of an era,” Kara says, discarding the vase on her console table and rounding the edge of the couch to flop onto its cushions. “My TatumLane feelings are in mourning. Be respectful.”

Lena laughs that silvery, delighted laugh of hers, and just like that Kara’s nerves dissolve into the air. It will be nice, just the two of them spending time together. Having dinner, watching a movie. She didn’t need to complicate it with her feelings. 

She was fine. 

#3:

By fine she means: definitely, completely, totally _not_ fine. 

It’s different when Lena is warm and joyful and laughing; Kara can withstand the gravity of her own heart then and soak in the light that Lena exudes. But when Lena is empty, darkened, and hurting-- Kara gets sucked in like a star to a black hole. 

Kara holds Lena to herself on the balcony of Lena’s apartment. She holds her close. Tight. Her cape snaps soft in the night wind as a soundtrack to the tears soaking into Kara’s suit collar. The city around them feels muted and dull compared to the roaring blaze of fury and heartache that Supergirl wraps in a protective embrace. 

She has one hand cupped against the back of Lena’s head. “I’ve got you,” Kara murmurs, as Lena trembles, “I’ll never let you go. He can’t take me from you. You’re my--” she swallows, “you’re family, Lena, no matter how much he tries to make you feel alone and unloved. I’ll always fight for you. I promise.” 

Lena doesn’t say much. Her grip on Kara’s shoulders grows slightly harder, but she doesn’t lift her face from where it’s pressed into Kara’s throat or respond with any words. Kara just continues to stroke her hair, cheek pressed against the top of Lena’s head, murmuring things that skirt close to the edge of that stupid love speech she’d written for Lena days ago, if only because Lena needs to know that someone in the world loves her with kindness. That someone loves her the way she deserves to be loved. But she can’t tell Lena everything right now-- not when Lena is vulnerable like this and shaken so deeply. She’ll wait. 

#4: 

She can’t wait. 

It’s almost Valentine’s Day, for Pete’s sake. She and Lena had already made their Galentine’s Day dinner plans way before Kara ever decided that maybe she wanted to celebrate Valentine’s in its intended fashion with the very woman who thought their friend-dinner was a perfectly reasonable alternative. And it is! Their friendship is great and wonderful and Kara loves everything about it! 

But she promised not to lie to Lena, and by Rao she was going to tell her the truth if it was the last thing she did. 

The issue, however, was finding a way to tell Lena that was sincere and indisputable and gentle. And so Kara developed the perfect idea: 

To tell her… in Kryptonian.

Alex was less convinced. But Kara had a plan! Not only would she tell Lena her true feelings in Kryptonian, her first language and the one she’d spoken so little of since living on Earth, but she’d merge one of her own customs with Earth’s, too. Bondmates were symbolized by the wearing of an engraved bracelet on the wrists of the bonded on Krypton, but here on Earth, the wearing of bracelets was a platonic tradition. Kara spent all afternoon speed-weaving various bracelets together until she crafted a blue and red cord with yellow Kryptonian symbols for _My Beloved_ woven into the threads. It was the perfect way to showcase her romantic feelings and still keep in the realm of friendship. 

Kara found it was easier to say it all in Kryptonian, too. There was comfort in her native tongue and how she didn’t have to muddle the sentiment with English’s flowery prose. And Lena waited, sitting beside her on the couch, listening quietly as Kara poured her heart into the words of her lost people. 

“That was beautiful, Kara,” Lena murmurs, once Kara remains silent. There’s a heavy beat of silence between them, Lena’s gray-green eyes wide and searching Kara’s face. Then, cautiously, “What does it mean?”

Kara tries to steady her breath. With one hand, she offers up the bracelet she’d made earlier that day. It matches the one she’d already affixed to her other wrist. “It, um,” she starts, moving to fidget with her glasses even though she doesn’t wear them in front of Lena anymore, “It means-- it means you’re very special to me.” She takes another breath as Lena inspects the symbols threaded into the bracelet. Why was this so hard? She’d just said the words to Lena literally seconds ago. It shouldn’t have been difficult to translate them to a different language. That was all it was! “Um-- that-- you’re my, uh--” and now Lena’s watching her with those pretty, earnest eyes, and all of the confidence that Kara had been furiously trying to hold onto withers into a raisin inside her chest. 

She can’t lose Lena again. 

“--Valentine,” Kara finishes lamely. 

Lena blinks, head tilting. “I didn’t know Krypton had a Valentine’s Day.” 

“An equivalent, I guess.” Kara toys with her own bracelet. It almost seems to burn on her wrist. “Our society was more concerned with logical matches than finding a match through love. So our holiday was more of a reminder that love comes in many forms, and to appreciate everyone in our lives. Show that we cherish them regardless.” 

There’s a small, sweet smile at Lena’s mouth. She leans against Kara’s arm. “Tell me more about Krypton,” she says, soft, and Kara determines right then that she’s going to take Lena to Argo City some day. 

They spend hours on Lena’s couch. Kara spills story after story of the memories gathering dust in her heart, of all the little things she’d nearly forgotten after spending so long without anyone to share them with. For a while Krypton feels alive again as she talks; like the flame of her planet has ignited, existing somewhere in the delicate space between her and Lena Luthor. 

Like she’s home again. 

#5:

“This is ridiculous,” Kara tells herself through her bathroom mirror. Her reflection looks appropriately chastised. “I have to tell her.” 

It’s not even just a _want_ at this point. It’s the principle of the thing. She’s not about to give up when she’d spent the last couple weeks promising herself-- and silently promising Lena-- that she was going to tell the truth about her feelings. 

But now she’s out of ideas. 

Kara points a finger at herself in the mirror. “Just do it,” she demands. “If I don’t do it right now, I’ll never do it, and I’ll never forgive myself if I don’t.” 

She flexes a fist, takes a deep breath, and speeds out of her apartment before she can convince herself otherwise. 

The assistant outside Lena’s office looks startled to see Kara. So much, in fact, that she only puts up a weak protest as Kara marches by her and straight through the double doors. 

Lena is at her video display studying the numbers across the screen when Kara enters. She turns at the intrusion, but the hard look on her face softens into surprise a second later. 

“Kara,” Lena greets, and she waves back the assistant behind Kara, who reluctantly shuts the doors. “Is everything alright? You look…” she gestures vaguely, “...intense.” 

Kara swipes some of the blonde wisps of her hair out of her face, then soldiers on with a firm, “I need to tell you something.” 

Lena pauses. Her expression is cautious, maybe a little concerned, but there’s no fear-- no hesitation that suggests she worries what might be coming next. After a moment she moves to the white couch and sits there. “Sure,” she says, gentle, and Kara manages to breathe a little, “You can tell me anything.” 

Kara can. She _can_ tell Lena anything. 

It’ll be okay. 

“I love you,” Kara says. Strong this time, like the way the sun feels thrumming under her skin. Like the words are deeper than the cosmos, like they burn brighter than the magnesium-white flare of starshine in her heat vision. Her breath wavers, but she continues, “You’re my best friend, Lena, and I love you in a way that makes me _ache_. I love you in a way that makes sense. I love you so completely it’s like I’m seeing colors for the first time, every time.” Kara turns to pace across the office floor. The words are electric as they leave her lungs, and she’s got to wear out this energy before it vibrates right out of her. “I-- I am so terribly in love with you that I can’t breathe, sometimes, because-- because the thought of being without you feels like losing the most sacred part of myself all over again. It’s you. It’s always been you.” She clenches her fists to steady herself. “I’ve wanted to tell you, but I just-- I couldn’t say it the right way, and I was so-- so _stupidly_ afraid that I could lose you again, and I promised never to keep secrets--” 

“Kara.” 

She nearly jumps out of her shoes; Lena is behind her, and she just about jerks around when she feels a warm hand press against her shoulder. 

Lena stands close. She stands so close that Kara can smell the slight mint of her breath and the faint traces of perfumed oil soaked into the skin of her neck. So close that she can see all of the lovely freckles and hidden scars and the electric depths of those divine, celadon eyes.

Kara stares. The words evaporate right out of her chest, out of her mouth, because there’s a heaviness to the way Lena’s watching her that sits square on her lungs and presses down until she’s lightheaded. 

Lena’s hand lifts and lays it against Kara’s cheek. Her palm is warm and soft. Kara almost misses the bracelet tied around her wrist from how intently focused she is on the raw emotion pooled in the shine of Lena’s gaze. 

The bracelet. 

Kara’s gaze flickers to it, and then back, and Lena smiles. “Kara,” she repeats, so soft it’s almost a whisper, “how do you think I reprogrammed the computer at the Fortress of Solitude if I didn’t know Kryptonian?” 

Time screeches to a halt.

Kryptonian. 

Lena Luthor...knows...Kryptonian. 

_Oh_. 

Kara sucks in a startled breath so hard she wheezes. “You-- but-- I--” she tries, eyes blown wide, and she can’t seem to form any other thought besides _LENA KNOWS KRYPTONIAN_ , “you-- know?”

“I know,” Lena confirms, the twinkle of a laugh under her breath. She tips upward and brushes the tip of her nose to Kara’s. It’s an intimate gesture that makes the thundering of Kara’s heart suddenly quiet, like a storm quelled into calm. “And for the record,” she adds, tilting back just enough to slip the glasses off Kara’s face, “It’s always been you, too.” 

When Lena kisses her, it’s like a supernova in her chest; there’s light, and heat, and blinding euphoria surging up from the deepest corners of her being and outward until she might radiate that light to the ends of the universe. Kara can’t contain the grin, even as Lena kisses a laugh right into her mouth. So she kisses her back, smile and all, and thinks: confessions might be hard, but loving Lena Luthor was the easiest thing in the world. 


End file.
